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by Jenny S. F.

What's the point of living,
You're going to die anyway?
I'm sick of all the giving,
Even though it's sad to say.

My relationships never work out
No matter how hard I try.
I'd rather not live in doubt,
But much rather die.

I act like I'm happy, but no one
Can imagine the pain inside.
That's it, I'm done,
No more lonely nights to cry.

All I hear is screaming,
Every day and night.
I don't understand
Why my family has to fight.

I guess this is it.
This is where it all ends.
It'll be over in a little bit,
So goodbye to all my family and friends.

Poem ID: 65831   Poem Posted: 10/9/2001
Viewed: 11503  Voted On: 375  E-mailed: 141  Commented On: 33
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Rose and Rhyme Sweets Message in a Bottle Flowers

Copyright , 9/25/01, Jenny Sandra Fritzler  all rights reserved by the author.
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